Having claimed I can’t go home again, that all depends on what and where home is. Home is where I hang my cat, I have sometimes said (more in the sense of pictures than of nooses: they are works of art after all, though they generally prefer to pick their own display options). At any rate, I am back with cats and Sir John for the time being. The garden is lush to the point of overgrowth, and my study is bursting with books checked out from various libraries. The book-growth seems in more urgent need of taming, at the moment.
My 9-1 plan was supposed to allow for a morning of work, followed by an afternoon of dealing with errands, household repairs, and so on. Like so many plans, it has foundered: this week, my excuses are jet lag, an on-campus meeting of my writing group, a morning vet visit, and general demoralization. Although I have tried to keep making steady progress on my major writing project this summer, it is progressing more and more slowly, and I have not given much attention to other work, nor have I managed to take care of the house repairs yet.
More things keep getting added to all the lists. Just as I thought I might get to one project, we are wondering if we need a new hot water heater (7 years old, 6-year warranty: can you say planned obsolescence?). The problem is not severe, but it might be nice to deal with it before the cold winter day when there is no hot water. Just as a friend sent me a draft of an essay to read (must finish draft to send her!), a journal published in my department asked me to review a submission. Just as one cat finished a round of antibiotic eyedrops, another is starting three weeks of topical cream on his ears.
Life doesn’t start when you get the problems solved. The string of “problems” is life. Will today’s life include writing? I hope so. But there’s a long list of other things to do that I feel would give me more satisfaction to have done.
Somehow I need to set up a writing addiction, as I have a gym addiction. I miss the gym if I don’t get there. I don’t sleep as well or feel as well if I don’t go. What does writing do for me that I will instantly miss if I don’t do it?
What does it do for you?